She slipped her handbag from her shoulder and met his gaze. "Are you going to make me wait out in the hallway, or are you going to invite me in?"
"Yeah . . . of course. Please . . . ," he said, motioning her inside.
Doris moved past him and set her bag on the end table near the door. She glanced around his apartment and removed her jacket. "This is nice," she said, walking around the living room. "It's bigger than I thought it would be. But the stairs were a killer. You really need to get the elevator fixed."
"Yeah . . . I know."
She paused at the window. "But the city is beautiful, even in the storm. And so . . . busy. I can see why some people would want to live here."
"What are you doing here?"
"I came to talk to you, of course."
"About Lexie?"
She didn't answer right away. Instead, she sighed, then said evenly, "Among other things." When his brow furrowed, she shrugged. "You wouldn't happen to have any tea, would you? I'm still a little chilly."
"But . . ."
"We've got a lot to talk about," she said, her voice holding steady. "I know you have questions, but it's going to take a while. So how about some tea?"
Jeremy went into the small kitchen and heated a cup of water in the microwave. After adding a tea bag, he carried the cup back to the living room, where he found Doris sitting on the couch. He handed her the cup, and she took a sip almost immediately.
"I'm sorry that I didn't call. I know I should have. You must be pretty shocked. But I wanted to talk to you in person."
"How did you know where I live?"
"I talked to your friend Alvin. He told me."
"You talked to Alvin?"
"Yesterday," she said. "He had given his phone number to Rachel, so I called him, and he was kind enough to give me your address. I wish I'd had the chance to meet him while he was in Boone Creek. He seemed like a perfect gentleman."
Jeremy sensed that the small talk was a sign of mounting nervousness and decided to say nothing. He knew she was simply trying to work up to whatever it was she was going to say.
The buzzer sounded again and Doris glanced toward the door. "That's my lunch," he said, annoyed by the distraction. "Give me a minute, okay?"
He rose from his seat, pressed the intercom, and unlocked his door; as he waited, he glimpsed Doris smoothing her blouse. A moment later, she fidgeted again, and for some reason, the fact that she was nervous helped to steady his own nerves. He drew a long breath and stepped out into the hallway, meeting the deliveryman as he emerged from the stairwell.
Jeremy came back in and was just about to set the bag of food on the kitchen counter when he heard Doris behind him.
"What did you order?"
"Beef with broccoli, pork fried rice."
"It smells good."
It was, perhaps, the way she said it that made him smile. "Would you like me to make up a couple of plates?"
"I wouldn't want to take your food."
"There's plenty," he said, reaching for some plates. "And besides, didn't you tell me that you like to talk over a good meal?"
He spooned out the food, then brought it to the table; Doris sat down next to him.
Again, he decided to let her begin, and they ate in silence for a few minutes.
"This is delicious," she finally said. "I didn't have any breakfast, and I guess I didn't realize how hungry I was. It's quite a trip to get here. I had to leave at crack of dawn, and my flight was delayed. The weather had everything backed up, and for a while there, I wasn't sure we'd even take off. I was nervous, too. It was the first time I've ever flown."
"Oh?"
"Never had a reason to. Lexie asked me to come up and visit her while she lived up here, but my husband wasn't in the best of health and I just never got around to it. Then she moved back. She was quite a wreck back then. I know you probably think she's tough and strong, but that's just what she wants others to believe. Underneath, she's like everyone else, and she was crushed by what happened with Avery." Doris hesitated. "She told you about him, right?"
"Yes."
"She suffered in silence, kept up the brave front, but I knew how upset she was. There was nothing I could do for her. She hid it by keeping busy, running from here to there, talking to everyone and trying to make sure they had the impression that she was okay. You can't imagine how helpless that made me feel."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because she's acting the same way now."
Jeremy moved his food around with his fork. "I wasn't the one who ended it, Doris."
"I know that, too."
"Then why talk to me?"
"Lexie won't listen."
Despite the tension, Jeremy laughed. "I guess that means you think I'm a pushover?"
"No," she said. "But what I'm hoping is that you're not as stubborn as she is."
"Even if I'm willing to try again, it's still up to her."
Doris watched him carefully. "Do you really believe that?"
"I tried to talk to her. I told her I wanted to find a way to make the relationship work."
Instead of responding to his comment, Doris asked, "You were married once, weren't you?"
"A long time ago. Did Lexie tell you that?"
"No," she said. "I've known it since our first conversation."
"Psychic abilities again?"
"No, nothing like that. It has more to do with the way you interact with women. You carry yourself with the sort of confidence that a lot of women find appealing. At the same time, I had the sense that you understand what women want, but that for some reason you're unwilling to give yourself completely."
"What's this got to do with anything?"
"Women want the fairy tale. Not all women, of course, but most women grow up dreaming about the kind of man who would risk everything for them, even knowing they might get hurt." She paused. "Kind of like the way you went to find Lexie at the beach. That's why she fell in love with you."
"She's not in love with me."
"Yes, she is."
Jeremy opened his mouth to deny it but couldn't. Instead, he shook his head. "It doesn't matter now, anyway. She's marrying Rodney."
Doris stared at him. "No, she isn't. But before you think it was her way of pushing you away, you should know that she only said it so that if you did leave, she wouldn't lie awake at night wondering why you never came back for her." She paused, letting that sink in. "And besides, you didn't really believe her, anyway, did you?"
It was the way Doris said this that made him remember his initial response when Lexie first told him about Rodney. No, he suddenly realized, he hadn't believed it then.
Doris reached across the table and took his hand.
"You're a good man, Jeremy. And you deserved the truth, which was why I came up here."
She stood from the table. "I've got a flight to catch. If I don't get back tonight, Lexie's going to know something's up. I'd rather she didn't know I came up here."
"That's quite a trip. You could have simply called."
"I know. But I had to see your face."
"Why?"
"I wanted to know if you were in love with her, too." She patted him on the shoulder before heading to the living room, where she picked up her handbag.
"Doris?" Jeremy called out.
She turned. "Yes?"
"Did you find the answer you were hoping for?"
She smiled. "The real question is, did you?"
Twenty-two
Jeremy paced the length of the living room. He needed to think, to work through the options, so he would know what to do.
He ran his hand through his hair before shaking his head. There wasn't time for indecision. Not now, knowing what he knew. He had to go back. Get on the first plane he could and find her again. Talk to her, try to convince her that when he'd told her that he loved her, he'd never been more serious about anything in his life. Tell her that he couldn't imagine a life without her. Tell her that he would d
o whatever it took so they could be together.
Before Doris had even hailed a cab outside his building, he was reaching for the phone and calling the airline.
He was put on hold for what seemed like forever, growing more irate with every passing moment, until he finally got an agent to assist him.
The last flight to Raleigh was leaving in ninety minutes. Even in good weather, the cab ride could take half that long, but it was either make the flight or wait until tomorrow.
He had to move quickly. Grabbing a duffel bag from the closet, he tossed in two pairs of jeans, a couple of shirts, socks, and underwear. He threw on his jacket and stuffed his cell phone in his pocket. Took the charger from the top of the desk. Laptop? No, he wouldn't need it. What else?
Oh, yeah. He rushed to the bathroom and checked the contents of his dop kit. Remembered his razor and toothbrush and shoved them in. He turned out the lights, put his computer to sleep, and grabbed his wallet. Flipping through it, he saw that he had enough cash to get him to the airport--good enough for now. From the corner of his eye, he spied Owen Gherkin's diary half buried beneath a stack of papers. He tossed the diary and his dop kit into the duffel bag, tried to think if he needed anything else, then gave up. No time for that. He picked up the keys from the end table near the door, took one last look around, then locked the door before charging down the stairs.
He hailed a cab, told the driver he was in a hurry, and sat back with a sigh, hoping for the best. Doris had been right: due to the snow, traffic was bad, and as they came to a stop on the bridge crossing the East River, he cursed under his breath. To cut time at security, he removed his belt and threw it in the duffel bag, along with his keys. The driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror. His expression was one of boredom, and although he drove fast, it was without any sense of urgency. Jeremy bit his tongue, knowing it wouldn't do any good to irritate him.
Minutes passed. The flurries, which had temporarily stopped, started up again, reducing visibility even further. Forty-five minutes until his flight.
The traffic slowed again, and Jeremy sighed aloud as he looked at his watch once more. Thirty-five minutes before the flight. Ten minutes later, they reached the exit for the airport and headed toward the terminal.
Finally.
The moment the cab came to a stop, he opened the door and tossed two twenties to the driver. Inside the terminal, he hesitated for only an instant before the electronic departure board to figure out which gate he needed. He stood on a mercifully short line to get his electronic ticket, then headed toward security. He felt his heart sink when he saw how long the lines were, but caught a break as a new line suddenly opened. People who'd been waiting began drifting that way; Jeremy, on a run, cut three of them off.
The flight would close its doors in less than ten minutes, and once through security, Jeremy started to jog, then run. Weaving through the crowds, he reached for his driver's license, counting the gates.
He was breathing hard by the time he reached the gate and could feel himself beginning to perspire.
"Did I make it?" he panted.
"Only because of a brief delay," the woman at the counter said, typing into the computer. The attendant near the door glared at him.
After taking his ticket, the attendant closed the door after Jeremy had started down the ramp. He was still trying to catch his breath when he reached the plane.
"We'll be backing off the gate shortly. You're the last one, so you can take a seat anywhere," the flight attendant said as she made room for him to pass.
"Thanks."
He moved down the aisle, amazed that he'd made it, and spotted an open window seat halfway down. He was storing his duffel bag in the overhead bin when he caught sight of Doris, three rows behind him.
Returning his gaze, she said nothing; she simply smiled.
The plane touched down in Raleigh at half past three, and Jeremy walked with Doris through the terminal. Near the exit doors, he motioned over his shoulder.
"I've got to get a rental car," he said.
"I'll be happy to take you," she said. "I'm going that way."
When she saw him hesitate, she smiled. "And I'll let you drive," she added.
He never let the speed drop below eighty and shaved forty-five minutes from the three-hour drive; dusk was setting in as he approached the outskirts of town. With random images of Lexie floating through his mind, he didn't notice the passage of time, nor could he remember much of the drive. He tried to rehearse what he wanted to say or anticipate how she would respond, but he realized that he had no idea what was going to happen. It didn't matter. Even if he was flying by the seat of his pants, he couldn't imagine doing anything differently.
The streets of Boone Creek were quiet as he approached downtown. Doris turned toward him.
"Would you mind dropping me off at home?"
He glanced at her, realizing that they'd barely spoken since leaving the airport. With his mind fixed on Lexie, he hadn't even noticed.
"Don't you need your car?"
"Not until tomorrow. Besides, it's too cold to be walking around tonight."
Following Doris's directions, Jeremy pulled to a stop in front of her house. At the small white bungalow, he could see her newspaper propped against the door. The crescent moon hovered just above the roofline, and in the dim light, he glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. Knowing that he was only minutes from seeing Lexie, he ran his hand through his hair.
Doris noted his nervous gesture and patted him on the leg. "It's going to be okay," she said. "Trust me."
Jeremy forced a smile, trying to hide his doubts. "Any last-minute advice?"
"No," she said, shaking her head. "Besides, you already took whatever I had to give. You're here, aren't you?"
Jeremy nodded, and Doris leaned across the seat to kiss him on the cheek.
"Welcome home," she whispered.
Jeremy turned the car around, the tires screaching as he sped back toward the library. Lexie had mentioned keeping the library open for people who came in after work, hadn't she? In one of their conversations? Yes, he thought, he was sure of it, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember when. Was it the day they'd met? The next day? He sighed, recognizing that his compulsive need to review their history was simply an attempt to calm his nerves. Should he have come? Would she be glad to see him? Any confidence he had evaporated as he neared the library.
Downtown appeared in sharp focus, in contrast to the dreamy, misty images he remembered. He drove past Lookilu and saw half a dozen cars parked out front, saw another group of cars clustered near the pizza place. A group of teenagers was loitering on the corner, and while he initially thought they were smoking, he realized it was simply the warmth of their breath condensing in cold air.
He turned again; on the far side of the intersection, he saw the lights from the library blazing on both floors. He parked the car and stepped out into the cold night air. Taking a deep breath, he strode quickly to the front door and pulled it open.
With no one at the front desk, he stopped to peek through the glass doors that opened into the downstairs area. No sign of Lexie among the patrons. He swept his gaze around the room, making sure.
Figuring Lexie was either in her office or in the main room, he hurried down the corridor and up the stairs, where he glanced around before heading toward her office. From a distance, he noted that the door was closed, no light spilling out beneath it. Checking the door, he found it locked, then searched among the aisles as he made his way to the rare-book room.
Locked.
He cut a zigzag route through the main room, walking quickly, ignoring the stares of people who no doubt recognized him, then ran down the stairs. As he headed for the front door, he realized that he should have checked for Lexie's car and wondered why he hadn't.
Nerves, a voice inside his head answered.
No matter. If she wasn't here, she was probably at home.
One of the elderly volunteers was emerging
with an armful of books, and her eyes lit up when she saw him approaching.
"Mr. Marsh?" she called out in a singsong voice. "I didn't expect to see you again! What on earth are you doing here?"
"I was looking for Lexie."
"She left about an hour ago. I think she was heading to Doris's to check on her. I know she called earlier, and Doris didn't answer."
Jeremy kept his expression steady. "Oh?"
"And Doris wasn't at Herbs, I know that much. I tried to tell Lexie that Doris was probably running some errands, but you know how Lexie worries. She's like a mother hen. Drives Doris crazy sometimes, but she knows that it's just Lexie's way of showing that she cares." She paused, suddenly realizing that Jeremy hadn't explained his reappearance. Before she could say another word, however, Jeremy cut her off.
"Listen, I'd love to stay and chat, but I've really got to talk to Lexie."
"About the story again? Maybe I could help. I have the key to the rare-book room, if you need it."
"No, that's not necessary. But thank you."
He was already past her when he heard her voice behind him.
"If she comes back, do you want me to tell her you came by?"
"No," he called out over his shoulder. "It's a surprise."
He shivered as he stepped into the cold and ran back to the car. He pulled onto the main road, followed the curve to the edge of town, watching as the sky grew even darker. Above the trees, he could see stars, thousands of them. Millions. For an instant, he wondered how they would look from the top of Riker's Hill.
He turned onto Lexie's street, saw her house, and felt something give way when he saw no lights shining from inside and no car in the drive. Reluctant to believe his eyes, he passed the house slowly, hoping he'd made a mistake.
If not at the library, if not at home, where was she?
Had she passed him on the way to Doris's? He tried to think. Had anyone passed him? Not that he remembered, but he really hadn't been paying attention. He was sure he would have recognized her car, anyway.
He decided to swing by Doris's just to make sure, and--driving too fast through town while watching for her car--he sped back to her white bungalow.
One look was all it took to see that Doris had already gone to bed.
Still, he paused in front of the house, trying to figure out where Lexie had gone. It wasn't that large of a town and the options were few. He thought immediately of Herbs, but remembered it wasn't open in the evening. He hadn't seen her car at Lookilu--or anywhere else downtown, for that matter. He supposed she could have been doing something mundane: grocery shopping or returning a video or picking up dry cleaning . . . or . . . or . . .